The Master of Potions
by Clara Maplewood
Summary: What springs to your mind when you think of Severus Snape? A cruel, bitter man with no sense of humor? Picture, if you will, a Severus Snape with a wife and child, happy for a time...


Every morning, he woke up well before dawn and tried to fight down the uncertainty. "Just go back to sleep, Severus." He would tell himself. "Stop picking something good apart, and go back to sleep."   
  
He never did.   
  
He always stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, fighting a fierce inner battle. No matter what happened, he always began the day miserably, rubbing the inside of his left arm and realizing one, undeniable fact: No matter how much it hurt, he was lying next to the Dark Lord's half-sister, and that the writing was already on the wall for their 6 year old son sleeping in the other room.   
  
It took eight more weeks of this horrible feeling to shove him into the hardest decision he would ever have to make.   
  
And so it came to be that, one morning at 4:30 a.m, Severus Snape, brother-in-law to Lord Voldemort himself, his inner left arm still burning with disloyalty, stole away with only his wand tucked up the sleeve of his robe and a few Galleons. Every step broke and deadened his heart a bit more, because he really did love Selene, and Thomas, his son...Thomas meant more to Severus than nearly anything... Which is why he almost abandoned the plan at about 4:33 a.m.   
  
He was walking out the front door, when a small figure in pajamas appeared at his side.   
  
"Dad? Where are you going?"   
  
"Shhhh, Daddy has an important...appointment"   
  
"Oh. Is it with...him?"   
  
Severus took a deep breath. An invisible knife seemed to stab at his heart. "Yes, Tommy."   
  
Thomas wrinkled his nose. "I don't like him. He gives me a bad feeling here." He pointed to his stomach.   
  
Snape bent down and looked his son in the eyes. "You listen to me. Never tell that to your mother, but always, and I mean always, remember that bad feeling. Promise me something."   
  
"O.k."   
  
"Promise me that as soon as you are asked to follow the Dark Lord, you will run away. Run Away, do you hear me?"   
  
"I hear you. I will, believe me. I wouldn't follow him if you gave me a billion galleons! He's creepy."   
  
Severus laughed grimly. "Good-bye, Tommy."   
  
"Good-bye, Daddy."   
  
Severus made his way across the village, only stopping inside a pitch-black forest. He took out his wand and laid it across his palm, whispering, "Point Me." Suddenly, a sound pierced his senses, totally not akin to the ethereal silence or dull rushing of blood pounding in his ears.   
  
"What, are you lost? Funny. I don't remember you ever being lost when you were rushing off to an appointment with the Dark Lord." The voice was cold and sneering, with no hint of even an attempt at kindness.   
  
"Malfoy! What are you doing here?"   
  
"None of your business, traitor. Mainly, You are why I'm here. You don't think that Voldemort can sense when a Death Eater, so loyal for so long, has become unfaithful? Ha." No spark of mirth showed in his icy gray eyes. "I've been sent to...collect you, Severus."   
  
"NEVER!!! Never again!"   
  
"Severus, don't be daft. After all, we may have to have a little chat with Tommy and Selene to see where you went...I daresay, more pleasant for us than for them..." A cruel happiness twinkled in his eyes.   
  
Severus's eys, however, dilated considerably with fear. "Not them! Please!"   
  
"Oh, well, then, you've painted yourself into a bit of a corner, now haven't you, Severus? That fool Dumbledore and a handful of Mudbloods, or the most powerful wizard of our time, and a happy life with your son and wife." His tone changed and became full of a bite that was virtually tangible. "Choose quickly, Severus. We will find you, oh don't you worry. And Voldemort won't kill you immediately. No. Too simple for high treason. You do know what he is capable of?"   
  
Snape felt that phantom knife again. A few stray tears leaked down the sides of his face. "I know, Lucius. I know."   
  
"So then?" Malfoy gestured towards the village, and apparently Voldemort.   
  
A deep breath and small sob was all Severus could manage before saying, very quakingly, "No." And he had disappeared.   
  
Malfoy cursed into the dense night air. "That man knows too much! We will never live past this."   
  
No more than fifteen minutes later, screams were heard from Snape's previous residence.   
  
Those screams would echo bitterly throughout Snape's deadened heart for the rest of his life.   
  
  
Snape sighed and looked around at the assembled Gryffindors. There was a look in his eyes that could almost be a true tear, but not quite.   
  
"Professor Snape?" Hermione spoke up.   
  
"Yes, miss Granger?"   
  
She looked down at her desk. There was a heavy quality to his voice, like a sponge that had soaked up just a little too much water. It  
made her feel odd just talking to him. "Er...I was wondering, you know, why...?"   
  
A weary, crooked smile played at the corners of his thin mouth. "Why I told you this? Well, miss Granger, and all of you, I told you this because the one who made that entire story as it was, the Dark Lord, is back. I know that so many will deny it, but for me..." his voice broke a little and he looked out the window. "There is no denying the harsh reality. Of anything. I apologize for always being so bitter."   
  
Ron was not taking this at all like Snape had hoped. In fact, a slight snort came from the back of the room. "Rubbish. You're just trying to win our trust or something."   
  
"Oh, no, Mr. Weasley. Far from it. In fact, for the remainder of the time You-know-who is again walking this Earth, I would prefer it if you acted as you always have; that there is not an ounce of trustworthiness in my being." He turned back to the class and looked down at the contents of his desk drawer. "As of tomorrow, you will have a new Potions teacher, not that I approve of the decision Professor Dumbledore made as to who..." (for a moment, he looked like the old Snape again.) "I am leaving Hogwarts. I will have to work very hard to re-convince Voldemort that I am totally loyal. I need to get as close to him as possible, and I will do my duty. Not only to Dumbledore and the forces of good, but also...to myself."   
  
A dark-haired witch in a photograph in his desk scooped up a little boy, waved, and blew a kiss at Severus Snape, the man with the hardened heart. But for that one moment, perhaps, the love radiating from the picture, his heart softened, and he smiled with tears in his eyes.   
  
  
The first two terms had passed, and Potions class had come as a horrible shock to Malfoy, who was assaulted every lesson with Lockhart's "peppiness." The dungeons were no longer cold and dark, but painted a lovely shade of light lilac, with large, yellow flowers at intervals along the ceiling. It was a bit too much for Harry and Hermione, who were constantly on the edge of their seats for news of Professor Snape and his progress through the ranks of Voldemort. Ron, however, was, for once, accepting of Lockhart, because he was seen as a great improvement from "that lying traitor," or Snape, as the majority of students called him.   
Hermione's and Harry's releif came in the form of a knock on the door one Wednsday afternoon.   
  
Lockhart let in a trio of teachers whose stony faces contrasted horribly with his flashy grin. "Hello, Professor Dumbledore, beard's looking nice...Minnnerrrva, always a pleasure, and Remus, my dear collea-" but he was cut off by a light smack on the head by Professor McGonagall.   
  
"Gilderoy, I suggest you follow me." Lockhart, rubbing his head and muttering rather darkly to himself, followed the grim Professor McGonagall out of the classroom.  
  
Professor Dumbledore reached inside his robes, extracted what looked like a very beaten-up letter, and read from it.   
  
"To Professor Albus Dumbledore:   
I am gaining you-know-who's worthless trust. Hopefully, I will be back in his inner circle soon, in order to know his movements and be able to find him on a whim. I expect this to happen in roughly two weeks. Best of luck in these hard times,   
Severus Snape."   
  
Professor Dumbledore closed his eyes, sighed, and folded up the letter. "This was sent to us three weeks ago."   
  
Lupin spoke up. His voice was almost as heavy as it had been at the end of Harry's third year at Hogwarts. "Four days before we received it..." He looked down and ran his tongue over his lips, trying to find the right words. "Professor Snape was...found."   
  
It didn't take a Divination master to read their thoughts. The classroom was as silent as a mortuary.   
  
"From what evidence we found," There were tears in Dumbledore's voice. "Severus, more than likely, in his rage and impatience, challenged Voldemort to a duel."   
  
The only movement in the room was Hermione, lifting a hand to her mouth and gasping a little.   
  
Lupin spoke again, with a wet streak on one of his cheeks where a tear had fallen. "Snape was lucky he is such a seasoned dueler...otherwise Voldemort would still be here. Evidence and spies confirm that Voldemort is gone, and that he is not likely to return anytime soon." He drew a deep breath and finally said what both of them had been hinting at the whole time. "Professor Severus Snape was killed by Voldemort. He is dead now, but I am sure that his memory and spirit will stay with us forever."   
  
Hermione buried her face in her arms and cried.   
  



End file.
